Relics
by FunkyWashingMachine
Summary: Lemm invites Quirrel over for tea. Quirrel is kind of oblivious.


His thoughts were interrupted by a bug in the rain.

"Aren't you getting a bit wet standing out here?"

Lemm turned around. It was a bug he had never seen before, with a mask and a nail, walking through the streets of the city. A simple looking bug.

"Just taking a break from my research," Lemm said, looking back to the alleys.

"Oh?" said the bug, stopping beside him. "What are you researching?"

"Nothing that would interest you."

"Maybe not, but I'd still like to know."

Lemm scoffed a little bit. Not so loudly as to be impolite.

"I'm deciphering a text written in a forgotten dialect. I've done this many times before."

"Well, that does sound interesting," said the bug. "What kind of text is it?"

Lemm had it with him. He held it out for the bug to see.

"An old writing by a traveler of Hallownest," he said. "Not every bug sees the value in these, but that's where they and I are different."

"Oh, that's something," said the other bug. He reached for the tablet, but Lemm pulled it back. "I think I can understand some of it."

"Is that so?" Lemm said. "Then you're a fellow scholar of old Hallownest?"

"I suppose you could say that."

It didn't look like the sort of bug that would be. But it seemed like it was telling the truth.

Lemm showed the tablet back to the bug.

"So what does it look like it says?"

The bug leaned in and squinted at the words.

"Here… place… not danger," it said. "Out… not… something, be. I think it means, 'safe here, can't get out.' Well, that's rather upsetting."

Lemm looked back at the stone. That didn't contradict any of his earlier notions. He'd have to check the rest later.

"How do you know this dialect?" he asked the bug. It would have taken him hours to decipher that on his own.

The traveler gave him a shrug. "I know a few things about old Hallownest. I do some exploring."

Hence the nail. Lemm wasn't good with a nail himself. All his nails were artifacts.

What a strange and interesting bug.

"I don't meet many explorers," Lemm said. "Not among the scholarly crowd."

"I'm not sure I fall under 'scholarly crowd,'" said the bug.

"Don't humble yourself. It doesn't get you anywhere."

The bug laughed a little bit. It gave Lemm an odd feeling inside.

"I'll keep that in mind," said the bug. Lemm knew that was a lie. The kind you use to make polite conversation. He resorted to those sometimes, when he actually felt the need to.

But the bug wanted to be polite with him. Maybe a little more than he deserved. For some reason he was more grateful for that than he should have been.

"Have you made any discoveries in your travels?" he asked the bug.

"Nothing that's never been seen before," said the bug. "But some things that haven't been seen for a long time."

"There's a lot of that in Hallownest," Lemm said. Sometimes he wished he were strong enough to go out and see it himself.

"But that doesn't make it any less intriguing," said the bug.

"No," Lemm agreed. "Only more so."

Lemm normally hated listening to people talk. But this time, for whatever reason, he wanted to sit and talk with this bug for a long time.

"So," he said. "Where are you from?"

The bug took a couple moments to answer.

"I'm not sure I can tell you," it said. Then it smiled at him. "But I appreciate the curiosity."

For some reason, his insides couldn't handle having this bug smile at him, so Lemm looked away, feeling awkward.

"That's, uh… that's a beautiful mask you're wearing," he said.

The bug reached up and touched it.

"I suppose it is."

"Where did you get it?"

"I've had it for a long time. But I don't really have all the details."

Things that had details missing were always the most interesting. Interesting and infuriating. He wondered if this bug understood that. This bug who understood things no living bug should have.

It stood there in the rain, water dripping down the edges of its mask, calm and quiet and something he couldn't quite place.

Oh, this was NOT usual for him, but he wanted to get to know this bug, to the point that he would make an offer he never had before.

It was terrifying.

"Please, come out of the rain with me," Lemm said. "I can make you some tea."

* * *

The bug's name was Quirrel, Lemm found out over tea. An outdated name, but a respectable one.

"Aren't you having any?" Quirrel asked.

"Uh, no," Lemm said. He only had one teacup.

"Well, it's very generous of you."

He could be generous when he wanted to be. There just usually wasn't much reason to.

"Your collection is very impressive," Quirrel said, looking all around the room.

"Uh, thank you," Lemm said. It was always nice to impress people. It was very nice to impress THIS bug.

Quirrel sipped on his tea. "This piece here is quite something," he indicated an artifact on the desk. "A King's Idol, isn't it?"

"A King's Idol, indeed," Lemm said. "I have six of them."

Quirrel put down the teacup.

"Very impressive."

"Are you familiar with the stories of the King?" Lemm said.

"Refresh my memory," said Quirrel.

Lemm picked up another idol and placed it next to the first.

"The bugs of old Hallownest thought of their king as a god. And yet he seldom appeared to them in public, hence their adoption of these idols for worship." The idols shone beautifully even in the lowest of light. The pulsing reflections of the rain outside glimmered across their sides.

"I suspect the king was afraid to let them see his true self," Lemm said, picking up the first idol with a buffing cloth. "A bug who wants to be god can't show any imperfections."

Quirrel was tapping softly on the cup of tea.

"That sounds quite possible," he said. "And quite sad as well. To be imperfect is to be a bug." Then he looked Lemm in the eye. "Like you or like me. It's an inner truth of all of us."

Lemm didn't like the feeling that was putting in his chest. Well, he did, but it seemed a little dangerous.

"Uh, why don't you help me with some more translations," Lemm jumped up and went to a shelf. He picked up the first piece of text that was there. He had translated it months ago.

"All right," Quirrel said. "But I should probably be going soon."

"Really?" said Lemm. "Where are you going?"

Quirrel looked away again.

"I'm not entirely sure. But something is drawing me to travel the ruins of Hallownest."

"Do you expect to be coming back?"

"I don't know."

Lemm got down from the shelf and presented Quirrel with the text. Quirrel reached out for it. Their fingers touched beneath the stone.

"Have you made any progress on this one yet?" Quirrel asked, turning it over.

"No," Lemm lied. He knew exactly what was on that text.

"Well, I'll see what I can do," Quirrel said. He held up the little stone tablet. "It looks like it's talking about Geo. 'Hundred-Geo piece,' I think."

"That rune means a hundred and twenty," Lemm said. "Even though it would be pronounced like 'hundred' in today's speech."

"Well, I suppose you HAVE done some work on it already," Quirrel said. Lemm felt his heartbeat kick up a notch.

"Prior knowledge is all," he said, turning away.

"You do seem to have quite a lot of that."

"That's the business."

Quirrel laughed again. This bug laughed so much, Lemm didn't think he could take it.

"Hundred-and-twenty-Geo piece," Quirrel said, turning the rock over again in his hands. "What do you think they wrote that for?"

"I have a couple of theories," Lemm said, forgetting to pretend he didn't know about this text. "One is that this bug found a piece of Geo so large and intricate they decided it must have been worth a hundred and twenty. And with that being so unusual, they documented it here."

"Interesting," Quirrel said.

"My other theory," said Lemm, "is that the author of this tablet means to indicate that the tablet itself is worth one hundred and twenty Geo."

"You think they were selling it?"

"Selling it OR," Lemm waved a finger, "Trying to pass the tablet off as an actual piece of currency."

"By writing a number on it? And that makes it worth so much?"

"Stranger things have been done in old Hallownest," Lemm said. "That's why I research it."

"I admire your knowledge," Quirrel said. "The things I know about Hallownest seem to come and go as I travel."

"What is it you're looking for out there?" Lemm said.

"I'm not sure I'm looking for anything," said Quirrel. "I think I just want to be there."

"We're in Hallownest now," Lemm said. "You're already there."

"Well. Yes," Quirrel said.

"Don't you like it here the way it is now?"

"To be honest," Quirrel said, "it's hard to say how I feel about a lot of things."

"Yes, I know what you mean," Lemm scoffed. He took back the stone from Quirrel.

"It sure is coming down out there," Quirrel said.

"That it is."

"I should probably be going soon," Quirrel said. "It's been lovely."

Lemm wrung his hands together.

"Wait."

Quirrel waited.

"It's raining," Lemm said. "Won't you stay for another cup of tea?"

Quirrel looked at the cup, then back at Lemm.

"All right," he said. "It's very nice tea."

That wasn't really the reason Lemm wanted to hear.

"Only the best tea for my guests," he said. Which was technically true, since this was his first guest since setting up shop.

"You know," Quirrel said as Lemm topped off the cup, "as much as I want to keep going, there's a part of me that's also not ready to. Maybe I'm afraid. Is that strange?"

"Strange, no," Lemm handed the cup back to Quirrel. "Maybe you're afraid. Maybe you're lonely."

He couldn't believe he just said that.

"You might be right," Quirrel said. "Enough loneliness to be had in Hallownest."

"No need to tell ME that," Lemm said, accidentally.

"Are you lonely here, too?"

"No," Lemm said. "Not usually."

"Usually?"

"I have plenty of things to do here," Lemm said. "And plenty of space from other bugs."

It just usually didn't bother him.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me visiting," Quirrel said.

"No," Lemm said quickly. "No, not at all."

"Well, that's good to know," Quirrel said. "I've been having a very nice time here."

Lemm had to hide his face. He could have died.

"Are you all right, Lemm?"

"Yes," Lemm said. "It's just… dusty in here."

It was not dusty in here.

He felt Quirrel's hand on his shoulder. He could have died another time over.

"I hope you're not allergic to dust."

"Maybe a little bit," Lemm grasped for an excuse.

Quirrel laughed again. It was not helping.

"What did I tell you?" he said. "Every bug's imperfect in SOME way."

"Some of us are imperfect in a LOT of ways," Lemm said.

"Oh don't be so hard on yourself," Quirrel said, thumping him on the back. "I thought humbleness didn't get you anywhere."

That sounded like it was at least partially a joke. But Lemm figured he would do best to just stop talking about it.

"I think I WILL have some of that tea."

Quirrel picked up the teacup and gave it to him. Lemm knocked it back a little too fast for how hot it was.

"I'm glad you changed your mind," Quirrel said. "I don't think I could finish it all myself."

"Well. I'm also glad you stayed," said Lemm.

"Yes," Quirrel said. "So am I."

Lemm put the cup back on the table. Quirrel filled it up again, without having been asked.

Lemm wasn't sure who this cup was for.


End file.
